


Only

by salineshots



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Biting, First Time, Knotting, M/M, You know I write everyone as switches ;), bottom!shiro, they're just really in love, this time at least, top!Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salineshots/pseuds/salineshots
Summary: Post-series, but like, if the series had ended right. In which Shiro and Keith are sappy and tender.I had started this a while ago and finished it for the nsfw exchange!





	Only

They had shared their first kiss in the cockpit of the Black Lion. Keith hadn't told Shiro that it was his first ever. He hadn't needed to. Keith's strong hands had cradled Shiro's face like they had fought for his whole life and rearranged the universe for that privilege. His eyes had verged on violet, and their light had softened and broken, saying wordlessly: _It was only ever you._

Shiro only wished that the kiss had been longer. They should have stayed and savored it. Keith deserved so much more than that searing, heartbreakingly sweet, but _brief_ kiss before the two of them had been thrown back into their work and back to the Atlas.

It only felt more inadequate over the next couple of days, where no one could catch a break long enough for personal conversations. Keith still found the time to send fleeting glances Shiro’s way. They were on the bridge with plenty of crewmembers around them, so Shiro had only smiled back at him to try and communicate some reassurance.

Shiro was rarely off-duty. There was too much to do. And when he was chased off of the bridge to get some rest for himself, Keith was tied up with something else. That, or both of them were busy with the other paladins, together but with no privacy of their own. But after that mission ended, Shiro took the opportunity to seek him out.

It was almost funny when he found Keith wearing himself down to the bone on the Atlas’ training deck, and he almost laughed at the face Keith made when he saw Shiro in the doorway. He dismissed the automated training sequence a little too eagerly, and his blade deactivated by his side on his way to Shiro.

“Do you have a minute?” Shiro asked needlessly. Keith nodded.

“Of course. What is it?”

Shiro wasn’t used to having Keith so tense around him. That would have to stop.

“Nothing’s wrong, Keith,” he replied, lowering his voice and leaving it harmless. “I’ve just noticed you look like you want to tell me something.”

Keith stared up at him. He sheathed his knife at the back of his belt, and he took another step closer. There was sweat on his neck, and he was utterly unselfconscious, the way Keith was meant to be.

“You know what I want to talk about.” Keith spoke evenly, determined.

“Tell me anyway.”

A deep breath. A tiny clench in his jaw, then a sideways glance, and then Keith’s eyes were on him again.

“The… The kiss.” It was like Keith had never said that word out loud before. “You said you love me, and you kissed me. I need to know what you meant.”

“I thought I was pretty clear.” Shiro took his own step closer. If he tilted his head a little lower, their noses would touch. “You said something similar, if I recall correctly. And you kissed me first.”

Keith’s eyes were wide and lovely. His hand shook when he raised it, and Shiro let his chest lean into Keith’s palm.

“So you meant it?” Keith asked, and Shiro couldn’t believe he needed the clarification.

He whispered back, “I still do.”

That was all it took. Keith rose up, gripped Shiro by the shoulders, and pushed him back into the doorframe.

Keith’s mouth was hard and desperate, like he really believed this would be his last chance to do this. Shiro wrapped his hand around the nape of Keith’s neck in an attempt to guide him, and it only pulled him closer. Keith’s hands found their way to the back of Shiro’s head, and then all Shiro could feel was the heat of his body, the edge of his teeth, and the soft, beautiful whines Keith tried so hard to hold in his throat.

They had to get out of the hallway. Shiro pushed back against him to walk him back into the room, and Keith stopped to look up at him, bewildered and dizzy. In only one second, Shiro shut the door, set the lock, and grabbed Keith again to turn him and push him back against the wall. He caught a glimpse of Keith’s sharp, crooked smile before their lips were together again.

The way Keith kissed him was hungry and humbling; at the same time Shiro drank him in, enjoying Keith’s eager form and the smell of his sweat and the fact that he could finally _do this_ with him, that he had this medium to show him how much he loved him, Keith made him feel adored. He kissed Shiro like he was delicious, and Shiro hadn’t realized he could be desired this fiercely. Keith’s hands searched his cheeks to his shoulders to his chest, down to his waist and up his back, unable to decide where they wanted to land. He was determined to touch _all_ of him at least once.

Shiro took the honor of curling his hand into Keith’s hair. He worried that his lips were out of practice, but he did his best to make this kiss worthy of someone so sweet and selfless and violently loving as Keith.

Shiro held him by the jaw and tasted his tongue. It bought him the prettiest sound from Keith’s throat. It was when Shiro dropped his hand low on Keith’s back that Keith gasped and pushed at his chest. Shiro withdrew immediately, and when he checked Keith for any signs of distress, he felt a tremor run through him. Keith was red-faced and shivering.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro whispered. Keith shook his head and curled his fists into Shiro’s jacket.

“Nothing,” Keith breathed back, and that was just it. _Nothing_ was wrong. A small, bashful laugh left Keith’s mouth, and his shaking culminated in another shiver. “I’ve wanted you for… _Always_. I’ve always wanted you. And now I…” He swallowed roughly and searched Shiro’s eyes. “ _Do_ I have you?”

What a question. Shiro smiled, and as much as he tried to slow down, even a soft kiss to Keith’s cheek seemed overwhelming for both of them.

“You have me.” That promise only made Keith’s trembling worse. “You have me always.”

Keith bit his own bottom lip. He pressed forward and buried his face in Shiro’s neck and shoulder, and Shiro could have sworn he heard a quiet sniff.

“Can I just hold you?” Keith whispered. “Just for a little while?”

“Yeah.” Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith in return, and Keith went slack against him. “As long as you want.”

 

 

Shiro was careful never to press Keith after that. He knew him well enough to know that, once Keith knew Shiro wanted it, Keith would come to him. When their schedules began to open up, the Atlas experiencing something of a lull between the immediate conflicts, Keith had more opportunities to let Shiro know what was on his mind.

Shiro liked when they got to eat together. Keith was learning to be open and relaxed with his crewmates, and when he laughed, he lit up the mess hall. Shiro couldn’t imagine that the way Keith smiled at him went unnoticed, either, but he liked that, too.

Keith was all business during conferences. Shiro didn’t mind this; he was too. But frequently after the meetings, they were the last to leave the table. Shiro would stay and look over the materials one more time, and Keith would stay at the chair beside him and review with him. During these times, Keith learned that it was okay to kiss Shiro’s cheek and murmur gentle encouragements to him. Sometimes they didn’t kiss at all, and sometimes the kisses lasted as long as the meeting had. Keith also learned that it was okay to reach under the table and slide a hand over Shiro’s knee, even though Shiro had choked on his coffee on that first attempt.

Keith became more daring after that. He was learning how to play brazen and coy at once, and Shiro was suffering for it. Once when they crossed paths in an empty hallway, Keith grabbed Shiro by his collar, pulled him in to lick into his mouth, smiled and straightened Shiro’s jacket again, and continued on his way.

When they were alone in the elevator, Keith showed him that odd little smile again. Shiro expected a kiss when Keith stepped toward him, but then Keith turned around and leaned back against him. It was so sweet, and Shiro welcomed the contact by hugging Keith to his chest. And then Keith’s hips swayed back. Shiro’s breath caught, and Keith rewarded him with a crooning hum and another roll of his hips. Shiro had never realized how slow the elevators were until Keith used all that time to grind against him. Then Keith walked off at his stop, and Shiro was left flushed and unpresentable.

Then Keith caught Shiro outside the training room doorway. Shiro was putty before Keith even whispered in his ear, “Can I take a shower with you?”

All of these experiences were Keith’s firsts, and so Shiro left all of their timing and circumstances up to him. And if Keith was ready to shower with him, who was Shiro to stop him? He nodded and breathed back, “Yeah,” and then Keith was pulling him down the hallway to the captain's quarters.

 

 

Shiro didn’t want to assume anything about what Keith had in mind, so he resolved to take his cues from him. This left him stuck across the small but comfortable bathroom, staring at Keith while the latter stripped his shirt off.

Keith held his eyes the entire time. He looked nervous, but seemed like he was hanging on Shiro’s approval as he showed him more of his body. He was lean and athletic, covered in unjust scars, and he didn’t make any show of it when he crossed the space to reach Shiro. He had left his boxer briefs on, and he had a line of dark hair leading down into them with a little more across his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Shiro told him in a whisper. Keith smiled back up at him with a flush on his cheeks. Keith had never been open to compliments, but he looked like he believed Shiro then.

“Can I touch you?” Keith asked.

“Yeah.” Shiro raised a hand to begin undressing himself, but he thought better of it, reached out for Keith’s hand, and guided it to the first button on his uniform. Keith stared back at him, eyes round, containing all the excitement of a Christmas morning.

He worked his jacket open with a slow devotion. Shiro waited patiently, and when Keith took the collars to spread them and slip the uniform off, Shiro adjusted and let it fall. Next came the undershirt--or it was supposed to, but it was tucked into the waist of Shiro’s pants. Keith's hands shook when he unbuckled Shiro’s belt.

“Is this too much?” Shiro checked gently. “It’s okay if--”

“No,” Keith whispered. “No. I want you so fucking bad. Please. I can’t stand it anymore.”

Shiro raised his hand to hold Keith's chin between his finger and thumb. Keith obliged him and raised his head, and Shiro gave him a smile and a soft kiss.

“Take your time,” Shiro whispered back to him. Keith snorted under his breath, the message clear: if they took any more time, Keith was going to lose it.

He worked Shiro's belt open and then went for the button of his pants. His fingers weren't shaking anymore, but they were assertive as he stripped Shiro's clothes off. He shoved his pants lower on his hips, and he immediately turned to pulling off his undershirt. Once it was on the floor, Keith took a moment just to _look_.

Shiro knew that he was covered in scars. Both of them were, and neither of them were used to exposing them. He knew Keith wouldn't be repulsed by him, but a lump formed in Shiro's throat, and he could only hope Keith wouldn't be distracted by the marks on his body.

“God, Shiro, _fuck_.” Keith’s voice fell weak at the end. He finally reached up to _touch_ , and he looked pained even as his warm hands stroked down Shiro’s ribs. “You’re so fucking hot.”

How long had it been since Shiro had felt this wanted? Had he ever? Had he ever seen someone this overwhelmed and impressed and _in love_ with him before?

No. A big, resounding, wonderful no. His cheeks felt warm, and he pulled Keith closer by the waist. Keith leaned in again, finding safety and stability in another kiss. His hands curled around Shiro’s biceps, his new synthetic arm and all. Scars and all.

Keith stepped out of the rest of his clothes first, as though he had an easier time baring himself to Shiro than asking the same thing of him. He was still watching him with that electric, nervous anticipation, and the soft puff of his breathing caught Shiro across the jaw.

“Perfect,” Shiro whispered, because it was the truth. He slipped his hands up from Keith’s waist to his chest. His fingers traced the deep, vicious scar over Keith’s right shoulder, and then they moved down again, right along the center of Keith’s chest, between his ribs and the middle of his stomach. “You’re perfect.”

Keith swallowed; the motion of his throat was visible. Before Shiro could touch him any lower, Keith was urging his clothes further down. When Shiro was naked in front of him, Keith seemed almost too embarrassed to look, and when he did, he took in a soft gasp.

“What?” Shiro asked, feeling a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Keith looked back up to his eyes, and he gathered enough courage to set his hand low on Shiro's belly.

“You're so… Fuck, Shiro. Can I…?”

“Go ahead, baby,” Shiro murmured. He waited and let Keith move at his own pace. When Keith gripped him by the hips, Shiro sighed and leaned into his palms. When Keith moved in to kiss Shiro's throat, he tilted his head back and gave him a soft, airy moan. “You can do anything you want to me, Keith.”

“Anything?” Keith laughed under his breath, tickling Shiro's jaw. His voice was so low that Shiro's skin prickled. Keith's voice always had that perfect little rasp to it, and so quiet and close to Shiro's ear, it was deadly.

Then Keith's hand crossed over Shiro's hip. His fingers slipped lower, over sensitive skin that made Shiro gasp and arch, and curled around his cock.

Both of them groaned softly. Shiro couldn't believe how good Keith sounded, as if touching him was enough to make _him_ feel good. That strong, warm hand stroked him so slowly, getting acquainted with his shape and weight, and Shiro bit his lip and let out another tight sigh.

“Jesus, Shiro, you're so hard,” Keith noted breathlessly. Shiro leaned back against the wall and laughed faintly.

“'Cause of you,” he purred, and he rocked forward into Keith's hand. “It’s all for you, baby.”

The sound Keith made was close to tortured. He buried kisses along Shiro's neck and shoulder, and then he came back up to his mouth. While Keith stroked him quicker, _tighter_ , Shiro threaded his hands into Keith's hair.

“Wanna make you feel good,” Keith whispered. It sounded like a confession, like he was unsure that he could.

Hm. No, that wasn’t right.

“Wait.” Keith's hand froze, and Shiro hurried to clarify and reassure him. “Wait. Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good. But can I do something for you?”

Keith’s breathing was irregular against Shiro’s jaw. He pulled back to look him in the eyes.

“You don't wanna…?” Keith loosened his grip on Shiro and studied his face. “You don't wanna, um, come first?”

“Not yet. I wanna do this for you first. Please, Keith?”

It took Keith an odd moment of consideration. Finally, he nodded.

“Yeah,” Keith whispered. “Yeah, okay.”

Shiro smiled, and once Keith let go of him, he gripped him by the arms and turned them around. He pressed Keith back against the wall and listened to him gasp, and he looked back at those big, round eyes and Keith’s flushed cheeks. He couldn’t _not_ kiss him.

Keith’s mouth was his to kiss now. That wonderful little fact kept coming back to him like a dream. With Keith’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and his hot, eager tongue on his teeth, Shiro groaned and dropped his hands to Keith’s waist. He wanted to feel his body and knead all those lovely muscles loose. His thumbs pressed along the seam of Keith’s hips, and he tasted the depth of Keith's moan. He sucked Keith’s bottom lip, gave it a gentle pull with his teeth, and felt him shiver and go slack against the wall.

“Shiro,” Keith breathed against the corner of his mouth. The sound was barely audible, imploring him in the most tender, patient way. When Shiro brushed his lips across Keith’s jaw and down his throat, Keith whispered his name again, even quieter. Sucking kisses along Keith’s neck earned him a shaky sigh, and a gentle bite received a whimper.

“Talk to me, Keith,” Shiro bade him. “Tell me what you like. What feels good.”

“Your mouth,” Keith answered shakily, and Shiro chuckled. That was good, considering what he had in mind.

“Yeah?” Shiro bowed his head further. He kissed Keith’s collarbone, and he knelt down slowly, kissing and nuzzling a path down Keith’s chest, savoring the quickening rise and fall of the breaths in his belly. Keith’s hands had placed themselves on top of Shiro’s head, fingers brushing his hair back, and he smiled up at Keith from his knees.

“You want my mouth, baby?” he asked him sweetly.

“Yes, oh my god,” Keith whimpered. Shiro laughed and turned his attention down to Keith’s hips.

Keith really was beautiful all over. Keith was gorgeous and hard and _big_ , and Shiro made himself at home when he brushed his fingers up his length.

“You've got a great cock, baby,” Shiro murmured, and Keith gave him another tense sound. “It’s okay, Keith, just breathe. Relax. It’s your turn to feel good.” Keith answered him with an impossible little laugh.

“Sorry, you just… You look so good,” Keith said.

Shiro allowed himself a crooked smirk, and he cast his eyes upward. Keith’s attention was locked on him, and his _eyes_ \--his eyes were dark and vulnerable, brow knitted and nervous, and his full, beautiful mouth was bitten together in a pale line. Keith pet Shiro’s hair back slowly, just for some way to busy his hands.

Shiro pet him in return. His fingers wrapped around him a little tighter, and he stroked upward to play with the velvety skin over Keith’s cock. It made the motions smoother, sliding and warm, and he listened to the way Keith’s breath caught and his voice hitched upward when he introduced his tongue to his tip. Keith started to shut his eyes and turn his face away, as if watching was too embarrassing, but Shiro gripped him tighter.

“No, Keith. Look at me.”

Keith struggled, but he did. He peeked down at Shiro, red in the face.

Shiro smiled back up at him. He put his mouth to Keith’s base, and he dragged his tongue up across the underside of his cock, all the way to his tip.

Keith gasped. His fingers tugged in Shiro’s hair, only hard enough to convey something _good_ , and Shiro felt his hips twitch.

It wasn’t enough. Shiro wet his lips, slipped them around Keith’s cockhead, and took him into his mouth.

Keith was so fucking _vocal_. He moaned, and he tipped his head back to hit the wall behind him. His entire body trembled.

Good. If Shiro was giving Keith his first blowjob, he was going to leave him weak in the knees. He purred deep in his throat, and he swirled his tongue around him, playing with him.

“Shiro,” Keith whispered again. Each time he said it, it was with a precious care, like he had been waiting so long to say his name this intimately. It was a strange and elating feeling for Shiro, to be loved back. He relaxed his jaw and bobbed his head to take Keith deeper over his tongue.

He sucked Keith’s cock, tasted him when Keith gave him his precome, and then moved deeper over him to try and get _more_. He finally had Keith in his mouth, and that made him too happy to care when his saliva started to drip from Keith’s cock and onto his chin. Keith deserved good, wet, messy head, and it was making him so loud.

“Shiro, you look so good,” Keith choked out again. “Feels so good. You’re fucking beautiful, fuck, your _mouth_.”

Shiro smiled with his eyes and hollowed his cheeks, and he sucked Keith harder on the backstroke. He only took his mouth off of him for a moment to whisper, “Keep talking, baby,” and then he swallowed him again. He hit the back of his throat, and this time, Shiro relaxed and kept going. It was a stretch, but it was all worth it when Keith cried out and dragged his nails over his scalp.

“Fuck! Shiro, fuck, oh my god,” Keith was shouting, and that was the biggest compliment he could have given him. Shiro kept moving, thrusting himself over Keith to give him the deepest, tightest channel he could. When he reached up to grip Keith behind one cheek, he dragged him forward by the hips to encourage Keith to fuck him. His other hand dropped down between his own legs, and he stroked himself hard and fast. He didn't want Keith to worry about him; Shiro was happy to take care of both of them.

Jesus Christ, this boy didn’t know how to shut up. Keith appended every breath with another loud, hitching moan, and his shaking hands still tried to be gentle as they pet Shiro’s hair and neck. He was hesitant to move his hips, doubtlessly being _too considerate_ , but Shiro urged him into it with little suggestions. He even pulled back at one point, holding Keith’s tip on his tongue with his mouth open, and waited until Keith pulled his head back onto him.

Keith had to lean heavily against the wall. His thighs were shaking, and his hands couldn’t decide what tension to take in Shiro’s hair. Shiro tasted it when his pulse increased, and when Keith whined and tried to lean his hips away, Shiro followed him and insisted that he stay in his mouth.

“Shiro, I’m…” Keith began and couldn’t seem to finish the thought. Shiro cast his eyes up at him in a silent, _I know_ , and all Keith could do was gasp and try to hold on. Shiro doubled down, fucking himself on Keith’s cock, and kept going when he felt him go rigid.

Keith didn’t say anything. He cried out, wordless and desperate, and rewarded Shiro with another thrust into his mouth. When he came, it filled Shiro’s mouth and spilled off of his tongue. He swallowed most of it, and he didn’t care when some of it dripped down his chin.

With Keith’s fingers trembling in his hair, Shiro finished himself with his hand. He let himself groan and come across the bathroom floor while the last drops of Keith’s found his tongue.

Keith couldn’t stay standing. He whispered to warn Shiro as much, and he slid down the wall and slumped onto the floor. He was trembling and enervated, but he crawled forward and onto Shiro’s lap. They cuddled together on the floor, and Shiro turned to lean his back into the corner of the wall.

“You,” Keith breathed, sliding his arms around Shiro’s shoulders. “You beautiful man.”

Shiro laughed, voice only a little raspy, and parted his lips when Keith kissed him. Keith’s tongue was determined to slide behind his teeth and taste as much of himself as Shiro could offer him, and Shiro let him play with the kiss until Keith was sucking on his tongue.

Keith’s hand moved down. When he found Shiro’s cock and slipped his fingers over the come on his tip, he broke from the kiss to frown at him. Shiro’s stomach dropped, and he scrambled to figure out what rule he had broken.

“This was for me,” Keith whispered. He wasn’t scolding Shiro, but warning him. Shiro blinked back at him innocently.

“Sorry. Didn't want you to worry about it,” Shiro offered, but it wasn’t enough. Keith stroked him and tucked kisses under his ear and along his neck, and Shiro had no choice but to curl his toes and let himself harden in Keith’s hand. He groaned and tried to raise his hips up into the touch, but Keith settled himself firmly on Shiro’s lap, straddling him, and kept him in place.

“No,” Keith murmured. “It’s your turn.” Shiro had no idea where this surge of confidence had come from, but it was knocking the breath out of him. He sat still and behaved, and he tried to bite back the soft noises in his throat as Keith picked up the pace.

His hand clenched tighter. His body arched closer. His mouth got braver, from the gentle licks and bites he left on Shiro's neck to the filthy little words he gave his ear.

“You have _no idea_ \--” Holy fuck, was Keith gritting his teeth?-- “how long I've wanted to touch you like this. How long I've wanted you to be mine.”

Shiro's head was swimming. Keith actually got him to _whimper_. Unable to thrust upward into Keith's hand, he brought his hand up to tangle into Keith's hair and keep him close.

“How long?” Shiro had to ask shakily.

“Take a wild guess,” Keith muttered back. His wrist arched with each smooth thrust of his hand, and he had Shiro balanced on the edge of those motions alone.

“Since--” Shiro swallowed hard and tried to guess what Keith had meant by _always_. He had always loved Keith in one way or another, but he remembered in painful clarity the first moment he had wished that he could kiss him. That moment when he had realized, aching and all at once, just how profoundly their lives were connected. “Since you saved me when we were stranded? We were alone, and…”

Keith snorted. The next thrust of his hand was drawn out, a teasing slide that pulled a broken moan out of Shiro, and Keith made the next one harder and longer.

“I wanna see your face when you come,” Keith whispered. Those slow, agonizing thrusts picked up again with weight and purpose. “Can you do that for me, Shiro? Can you look at me when you come?”

Shiro nodded, and another tremor worked through him. He had planned on leading their way through this, on spoiling Keith and not making him lift a finger, but it shouldn't have surprised him that Keith was a natural at taking control.

“How long, Keith?” Shiro begged. Keith just smiled back at him and kissed his forehead. The gesture was so sweet and out of place, and it threw off the rest of Shiro's balance. He was breathing hard, still fighting to stay quiet for _god knows why_ , while Keith's hand fucked him right.

He could feel Keith's attention on him, taking in all of the signs that he was falling apart. Keith's free hand came up to Shiro's jaw, and with his chin between his finger and thumb, he raised Shiro's face to make him look at him.

The look in Keith's eyes was spellbinding, confident and dark, but just for a second Shiro could clearly see how long Keith had been waiting for this.

“Show me, Takashi.”

Shiro couldn't have refused.

He did his best to hold Keith's eyes. Keith gave him as much as he needed, and Shiro's hips tried again to lean upward into it as Keith jerked him. When the heat in his body filled him to bursting, he finally spilled himself onto Keith's hand and admitted a short cry. Reflexively, he tried to close his eyes and look away. Keith wouldn't have that. He gripped Shiro by the jaw and held them nose to nose, and he tore another plaintive moan from Shiro while he milked out the rest of his come.

Tugging and sliding, then gentle. Messy. Warm and sated. Needy.

Shiro moaned weakly. Keith let go of his jaw to stroke his hair back from his face.

“Perfect,” Keith murmured. Shiro let his eyes fall shut while he recovered, and Keith’s lips touched his cheekbone. “ _Perfect_.”

“Stay,” Shiro uttered before he could figure out what he meant, before he could realize that Keith wouldn’t have left anyway. He just wanted to cling to him for a while. When he turned his face toward Keith’s, Keith obliged him with a gentle kiss. “Stay here with me tonight? I wanna hold you.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, and his voice carried his smile. “Yeah, I’d like that. Shower first.”

 

 

It had been weeks since that first experience together, and they hadn't gone much further than that. They were in no rush.

The Atlas was docked at a Coalition-allied city. It was a break in their orderly schedule, the constant work of traveling between galaxies to help the planets and systems that needed them the most, and the whole crew was grateful for the night of shore leave.

Shiro took Keith out to dinner. He had to fix Keith’s tie for him, and neither of them knew which forks to use. The pavilion where they ate was draped in hanging lights, and they made Keith’s eyes sparkle. The wine was sweeter than Shiro was used to, but Keith loved it, so he bought an extra bottle to save for later. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had seen Keith so completely relaxed, without the war on his mind or anything besides their interwoven hands on top of the table. Shiro knew his sense of humor was terrible, but Keith’s laugh was warmer than the candlelight.

The city was witness to a distant meteor shower that night. Shiro and Keith took a walk up to the city limits, to a path that ended on a cliff. There was a park bench there, but the two of them sat on the ground closer to the ledge, their legs crossed a few inches away from the drop-off.

“When you fell from the sky,” Keith began. It was the first interruption of their peaceful quiet since they had sat down, and when Shiro turned his face to look at him, Keith was still gazing out at the sky, watching the little streaks and flickers of colored light. “When your pod crashed. Had no idea it was you. I was scared you’d never come back to me.”

“I was, too,” Shiro admitted, little more than a whisper.

He didn’t want to talk about how many nights in captivity he had cried himself into exhaustion. He had _known_ that the Garrison wouldn’t look for him. That was one of the possibilities the astronauts had prepared themselves for in private briefings before their missions. If they were lost in space, the Garrison couldn’t afford to send search parties. If they went missing, they would be reported dead.

The world had believed he was dead. Keith had been told that he was dead.

Keith sucked in a deep breath and sighed it out. He shuffled closer on the grass, and he tested his new privilege of resting his cheek on Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro leaned his own cheek against the top of Keith's head. They sat together in a comfortable silence under the shimmering sky.

“If I could pick any life,” Keith whispered then, “I’d live the one that always brings you back to me.”

Shiro had never heard love said that way. It tightened his throat for a moment.

“Is this the life you want to have with me?” Shiro had to ask. Before, Shiro hadn't believed he would live long enough for Keith to love him back. And now he wasn't sick anymore. He wasn't on borrowed time. They could have their whole lives together.

“Yes.”

Keith didn’t hesitate. His answer was unequivocal. Sitting beside Shiro on the ledge, eyes not breaking from his, he found his hand and threaded their fingers together.

“Yes,” he whispered again. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s so much _more_ than that. I don’t know how to show you how happy I am.”

If Shiro had proposed right then, Keith would have said yes.

He probably could have asked Keith at any point in time since that crash landing in the desert, and Keith would have said yes.

He couldn’t do that there. Not yet. He would ask Keith on Earth, on their next proper trip home.

“I love you, Keith,” Shiro said instead.

Keith turned his body to face him. There was something in his eyes that Shiro was still getting used to seeing, something he would _never_ get used to seeing. Keith moved closer to him on the soft, dark grass, and he cupped Shiro's jaw in his hand. He made a study of his face, tracing his thumb over Shiro's cheek, like it was just as much a privilege for him to do so as it was for Shiro to experience it.

“I love you, Shiro,” Keith murmured. “I'll always be in love with you.”

Shiro moved in. He tilted his head just enough, and the kiss settled into place, soft and then firm. Keith responded so well, meeting him with an easy parting of his lips and a silent gasp of eager acceptance. The hand on Shiro's jaw slipped farther back, under his ear, into his hair. Shiro caught him behind his head and lay him down in the grass, and Keith pulled him down with him.

It was peaceful, and it was slow. All Shiro had to do was hear the movement of the grass and trees, listen to Keith's quiet breaths between kisses, and feel both of them pull and press closer to each other. Keith had such a lovely way of kissing; grateful and tender, yet still demanding, needing more, needing as much as Shiro would give him. Shiro wanted Keith to take everything he wanted.

His hands didn't wander until Keith's did. He felt Keith's palm on his chest, pressing to feel, and stroking his body down his side and stomach. Shiro's breaths came deeper. His hand trailed down the center of Keith's chest and gripped his tie, and Keith turned his face to whisper into his ear:

“Take me to bed, Shiro.”

 

 

They pulled each other through the halls of the Atlas. The crew was scarce for the night, and the two of them hurried past everyone. They must have caught some glances, red-mouthed and holding hands, but Shiro couldn't find it in his overfull heart to care. They didn't stop until they were in Shiro's quarters (the bedroom was hardly _his_ alone; Keith had been sleeping in his arms for weeks).

Keith walked Shiro backwards to the bed. As soon as Shiro realized that Keith had pushed his suit jacket off, Keith was already pulling off his tie for him and then gripping him by his dress shirt. When he shoved Shiro down to make him sit on the bed, he complied and submitted, curious every step of the way to see what Keith would decide next. Keith never disappointed; he followed Shiro down with his knees on the mattress, framing Shiro's thighs with his own as he kissed him.

“How do you want me?” Shiro had never heard Keith’s voice so rough. He felt Keith’s weight on his lap, fingers tight in his short hair, tongue tracing his teeth. “I’m all yours, Shiro. How do you want me?”

So many options. Years upon years to enjoy all of them. But Shiro knew what he wanted this time, and that was to take care of Keith. For nothing to even risk hurting him. For Keith to feel as good as Shiro could possibly make him feel, and to give Keith the control that Shiro knew he liked.

“How far do you want to go?” Shiro asked him, quiet against his lips. Keith paused to gather himself, and he looked into Shiro's eyes.

“I want everything,” Keith answered lowly. “Tonight is for us. I wanna give you everything.”

Perfect. Shiro smiled and gripped Keith by the hair at his nape, and he made the invitation softly.

“Keith, I want you inside me.”

Without fail, Keith gave him the best reactions. Those pretty eyes widened. That handsome mouth sighed, suddenly breathless with surprise, as if he hadn't expected Shiro to say it out loud.

“You do?” came Keith's hopeful whisper.

“Yeah.” Shiro's smile pulled further upward at one side. His other hand dropped to Keith's ass and _squeezed_. “Can you do that for me? I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah.” Keith sounded endearingly hoarse. He swallowed so hard that his throat clicked. “Fuck, Shiro. I can do that.” With that, he was sitting up taller, undressing both of them with more urgency. Shiro found himself laughing, delighted and fond, and Keith laughed with him even as they stole extra kisses.

“Excited?” Shiro crooned, teasing only in the sweetest way. He lay down and worked his belt open, and Keith slipped off of his lap to finish stripping down. With both of them bare, Keith leaned over Shiro's body to kiss him properly. Keith's forearm pressed into the bed beside Shiro's head, and in that position, Shiro lost the ability to tease him at all. He touched Keith's chest with his fingertips, and he whispered with some concern, “You're shaking.”

Keith laughed again, just a puff of breath. He took the kisses to Shiro's jaw and got him to gasp.

“Yeah, I am.” Keith was still trembling against Shiro's hands, as confidently as he seemed to be moving. “I don't know if anyone's ever loved anyone like I love you.”

Shiro had never been brought to tears in bed, but Keith was cutting it close.

“You mean, how I love you?” Shiro whispered back. Keith rewarded him with a warm smile and another kiss to his skin, lingering and respectful, the way he might kiss a hand in fealty. Shiro stroked his dark hair and lay open to him while Keith took his time, savored him, and tasted him from his throat to the center of his chest.

Keith crawled lower and latched his mouth onto Shiro's nipple. Shiro had to bite his lip to keep from moaning out loud. Keith must have seen his attempted silence as a challenge, because he growled quietly, sucked him harder, and stroked the other side with the rough pad of his thumb. He only seemed satisfied when Shiro moaned and arched his back to meet him. His fingers laced through Keith's hair and tugged.

As much as he loved this, too much of the focus was on him. The need to please and serve Keith was pressing on his heart, which was pounding just inches below Keith’s lips.

“Baby, let me get ready for you,” Shiro urged him. Keith looked up at him with a haze in his eyes, but he pushed himself up to give him room.

Shiro turned onto his side and hurried to take a small bottle from the nightstand drawer. With Keith sitting above him, stroking his thigh, Shiro slicked his fingers and slipped his hand behind himself. He was comfortable, and it was a good angle to let Keith see what was happening. He only stopped to look up at him and smile.

“You okay?” he asked, and Keith nodded. He looked so serious, and it made Shiro laugh softly and beckon him closer. “C’mere. Kiss me.”

Keith bent down and pressed their lips together. He kept surprising Shiro with the raw sincerity in every action he took, every touch he offered him. He lay behind Shiro, holding himself up on one elbow, and wrapped the other arm around Shiro’s chest to cradle him against him. This close to him, with his head turned over his shoulder to keep their eyes locked, Shiro could see the precious furrow in Keith’s brow and the lovely flush of color across his cheeks.

“You’re still shaking,” Shiro whispered fondly. Keith didn’t dispute it, but pressed his lips to Shiro’s cheek before breathing his reply.

“I can’t wait to feel you.”

“It’ll be worth the wait,” Shiro murmured back, smiling. Keith had waited long enough already. “I promise.” His fingers curled, and he pressed one and then two into himself with a gasp. He heard Keith whisper another curse, so he laughed and suggested softly, “Wanna watch? You can look, sweetheart.”

Keith sat up and watched, transfixed as Shiro's fingers disappeared into his own body in slow, arching thrusts. Shiro spread his fingers and added a third one, and he turned his cheek into the pillow and whimpered. He had missed this stretch, and tonight it felt wonderfully new.

“Haven't done this in a while,” he admitted. “Feels tight.”

“Stop,” Keith ordered, and Shiro did. He pulled his fingers out of himself and looked up at Keith in confusion. Keith took the bottle from the sheets beside him, and Shiro's heart jumped.

“I want to do it,” Keith said more softly.

Of course Keith wanted to do it, and Shiro was happy to pass control over to his sweet and eager hands. He relaxed, waiting for Keith's move.

He took so much care when he spread the lube on his fingers, and he moved down to grip Shiro’s thighs and pull them apart, putting him on his back again. Shiro stretched himself out to the point of lounging, and he smiled up at Keith with his legs open wide.

“Do it,” Shiro said.

Keith watched his hands work, bringing one to the apex of Shiro’s legs while the other stroked the inside of his thigh. When his fingertips brushed against Shiro where he wanted him, Shiro’s hips twitched and he had to bite his lip.

“I won’t hurt you,” Keith promised, and Shiro gazed back up at him, relaxing entirely.

“I know.”

He didn’t fault Keith for being so careful and slow. He had always loved this soft, gentle side of him. He took one deep, steady breath to show him that he was ready, and then Keith pressed inside with just one fingertip.

Shiro sighed out and let his head fall back on the bed. The stretch was nothing and the contact was nice, and he waited while Keith adjusted and found the smoothest angle to slide further into him. Keith was learning, and Shiro didn't mind letting him figure it out. All he needed was to find his confidence.

“Good,” Shiro whispered. “Just like that. You wanna give me more, baby?” Keith was eager to please, and he lined up another finger to gently slide into him. Shiro rewarded him with another blissful sigh and an arch of his back. Keith was gentler with him than Shiro had been with himself, and while he was verging on _too_ patient, he made the stretch gradual and comfortable. While Shiro had been willing to hurt a little, Keith wouldn’t allow it. Keith was finding a nice rhythm, too, pumping in and out, relaxing Shiro’s body to the intrusion. Shiro set his heels into the mattress to rock his hips down against Keith’s hand.

“Does that feel good?” Keith asked, as if he really had to check when Shiro began to move and sigh for him.

“Yeah. Feels nice. Try--”

He didn't even have to tell him. Keith pressed his fingertips _up._

Shiro's hips bucked. His voice caught. Keith stroked him there again, more determined as he gained confidence, and Shiro had to curl his fist into the sheets. Another thrust of Keith's fingers made Shiro give him a full, loud moan.

“Yeah, Keith, _fuck_.”

“Can I use my mouth?” Keith asked him. He looked so earnest between Shiro's knees that he had to reach up and pet his cheek. “I'm ready. I can do it.”

That fucking beautiful mouth. Shiro wanted to see how that full, bow-shaped lip would look stretched over his cock. He traced it with his thumb.

“You don't have to,” Shiro started weakly. He didn't want Keith to feel obliged to--

Keith scoffed and leaned down. He kept his hooded eyes on Shiro's, took him in hand with his other fingers thrusting into him slowly, and pressed one soft, initial kiss to the crown of Shiro's cock.

“Oh my god.” Shiro swallowed hard and gripped the sheets above his head. He had to try and ground himself. Keith's brow furrowed in concentration, and he took a moment to lick the sides of his cock and test him out. He looked so pretty like that, all serious and focused.

Then there was more pressure. Keith tucked a third finger into him, and Shiro gasped out his name. Keith just hummed back to him, stretching him open wider, and put his mouth on the head of Shiro's cock. His tongue swept over Shiro's tip and he suckled, and his expression changed immediately, falling content and blissful.

“Keith, _fuck_.” Shiro was having trouble keeping his hips still, but he tried to brace himself down on the mattress. Keith alternated stroking that shallow spot inside him and then pressing deeper, and he was sucking Shiro's precome like a treat. When he opened his mouth wider and took Shiro in, Shiro had to grit his teeth to keep himself quiet.

“Fuck, Keith, wait,” he choked out. Keith took his hot, slick mouth away from him and blinked up at him.

“What's wrong?”

“Please,” Shiro gasped. “Don't make me come without you, baby. I want _you_.”

Keith’s pretty mouth curled into a grin. He kissed Shiro’s cock one more time and pulled his fingers out of him. Shiro felt regrettably empty, but he would just have to be patient. Keith would fix that for him.

“Alright,” Keith whispered simply.

Keith reached into the open drawer beside the bed, and Shiro heard the subtle crinkle of foil. He settled back between Shiro’s thighs, holding a square packet in his fingers and considering what to do with it next.

“Wait,” Shiro said, and Keith froze. Shiro's lips shuttered closed and open again. He wasn't sure why this was so embarrassing to say, but it couldn't be unrelated to how earnestly Keith was staring at him.

“I've never not used one before,” he finally admitted.

That brought Keith up short. His eyes moved back and forth between Shiro's while he processed that fact.

“Never?” His voice was thready with surprise. Shiro found pride in that.

“Not at this, um, stage of things,” he laughed faintly. He leaned up on his elbow and met Keith with another kiss. “Does that make you happy?”

“Um.” He _heard_ Keith swallow, heard him fumble and rein himself back from something. “Do you want me to use one?” he offered, which was sweet, but entirely missing the point.

“I get the feeling you don’t,” Shiro mused.

“Fuck,” Keith breathed, and he tossed the packet aside. He took the lube instead and slicked himself. “Do you want me raw, beautiful?”

This was a first of Shiro’s that he could give to Keith, and realizing it made his pulse trip over itself and his smile reach his eyes. He sat up closer to him to kiss the angle of Keith’s jaw.

“Yeah. Want me to ride you?” Shiro purred in his ear. He _wanted_ to. He wanted to see Keith pinned under him, jaw going slack with pleasure, body straining to thrust up and get _more_ while Shiro took care of him.

Keith moaned at first, low and appreciative to that suggestion. And then to Shiro's surprise, he said, “Not this time. Want you on your back.”

Oh, fuck. Shiro wasn't sure what he was going to do if Keith kept talking like that.

“Can I do that for you, baby?” Keith whispered. He moved in, pushing Shiro back down on the sheets, and leaned over him between Shiro's thighs. “Can I fuck you nice and slow? I wanna treat you good.”

Keith calling him _baby_ , Keith spoiling him, Keith handling him with his strong hands--

Shiro hooked one leg around Keith’s waist to pull his hips closer. He cupped Keith’s jaw in his hands to drag his face closer to him, too. Keith leaned down willingly, lips parting and looking forward to a kiss, of which Shiro stopped just short to speak softly to him.

“I love you, Keith Kogane.”

Keith’s heated focus narrowed down to Shiro’s face, and when he searched his eyes, Shiro left himself as an open book. His body was empty and wanting, and the temptation of Keith’s body between his legs made a current on his skin wherever they touched, but Keith was looking at him like that and Shiro couldn’t stop smiling. Keith admitted a tiny, wonderful laugh, and he touched their foreheads together.

“I love you, Shiro,” he whispered back.

He loved when Keith called him Shiro. He had always called him Shiro. All of the best times Keith had said his name, it had been _Shiro_.

Shiro leaned up to meet him, and Keith moaned low against his mouth and moved into the kiss. He tangled his hand into Keith’s hair, and he gasped when the slick head of his cock pressed against his hole. Keith was still moving so slowly and carefully, so Shiro begged him, “Give it to me.”

Keith sucked in his breath and leaned in.

The wet stretch of muscle made his toes curl and his gasps catch higher, and at first, Shiro had to wonder if this was more than he had bargained for. Keith felt huge and hard inside of him, and each inch he gave him made Shiro’s thighs shake. It didn’t hurt. It was just _impressive_. Shiro moaned and let his head fall back on the bed, and Keith followed him far enough to kiss his throat, rocking further into him one gentle thrust at a time.

Keith was making love to him. Shiro hadn't realized how low Keith's moans would get while he pushed into him, so slow and sweet and careful. He appreciated the gentler pace, at least in the beginning.

“You okay?” Keith whispered. The simple tenderness of that question made Shiro's chest flutter.

“Perfect,” Shiro murmured back, and he grinned and laughed softly. “You're really big.”

“Does it hurt?” Keith slowed down.

“No. Feels so good. Just…” Shiro draped the back of his hand over his mouth. He had no right to feel embarrassed while Keith was fucking him, so he looked up into his eyes. “You're the biggest I've had.”

He worried for a second that any reference to his past partners, no matter how indirect, would ruin Keith's mood. He worried for nothing. Keith's expression turned molten and shifted into something sweet and dark, and his hand tightened around his hip.

“Do you want it harder?” Keith murmured. Shiro nodded. Keith took another deep breath, braced one hand under Shiro’s thigh, and snapped his hips forward.

Both of them cried out when their bodies smacked together. Keith was buried inside of him, and once Shiro choked out a, “Keith, _yes_ ,” he kept moving. Sometimes he forgot just how strong Keith was, how _powerful_ he was, and then Keith was sawing into him, holding him down, all while he made the prettiest, broken sounds.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Shiro purred while he still had the composure to do so. Keith was moaning so well for him, so openly. He might sound the same way if Shiro were to bend him over and rail into him, but he liked this--the sight of Keith on top of him. His brow was tense and his eyelashes were long and dark, eyes shut and _stressed_. His hair fell over his face and shoulders carelessly. Shiro had done good work and kissed his mouth red, and Keith’s shoulders and chest looked tight, flexing and straining with the motions between them. He framed Shiro with those strong arms. His breathing was deep and unsteady. He was angelic.

“You feel,” Keith groaned, “ _so good_. You have no idea. Love you. I love you, Shiro.”

Shiro should have guessed Keith would be this tender.

“I love you, Keith,” he whispered back. “So much.”

“I can't believe this is happening.” Keith almost sounded like he was talking to himself as he rocked into him. His hands moved up Shiro's body, inward from his thighs and across his stomach to his chest. He braced one hand around Shiro’s wrist, holding it down on the bed beside his head, and squeezed his pectoral with the other. He seemed so hungry to _feel_ him, and Shiro took all of it gratefully, biting back noises while Keith’s hands praised him. “Always wanted you, Shiro,” he murmured. “Thought about this for so long. You're the only one I've ever wanted.”

His hand left Shiro's chest and continued upward. When he cradled Shiro's cheek, he was fucking into him too fast and hard for Shiro to reconcile the clashing forces.

“You have me,” Shiro promised him in one rasping breath. Keith leaned in to kiss his jaw, so Shiro curled his hand into Keith’s hair and whispered to him. “You have me, so take me.”

Keith growled something filthy into Shiro’s neck, and then he raised his face to catch him in a hard, greedy kiss. Shiro hardly recognized his desperate, whimpering moans as his own, but Keith kept fucking those sounds out of him, slamming deeper than Shiro had realized he needed him. He was full. Keith was treating him so well, and he was _full_.

“Keith, baby,” he started to beg, and Keith didn’t even let him finish the request. He was just so good at anticipating his needs and responding to Shiro’s desires, unwilling to leave Shiro wanting for anything. Keith kissed Shiro again to shut him up, and he took his hand back down from Shiro’s face to his cock. He pumped him hard and fast enough for colors to burst behind his eyes. He shut them and threw his head back.

“Keith, _fuck, you’re gonna make me come_.”

“Fuck,” Keith panted close to his throat. “Fuck, Shiro, please.”

Keith was close. Shiro was going to get to feel Keith come. His short nails dragged against the back of Keith’s neck.

“Inside,” he whispered, half senseless. “Want you inside.”

“No one's ever come inside you before?” Keith whispered under his ear. Shiro shivered, and the next hard thrust tried to break him.

“Never,” he agreed brokenly. “Want you. Want it to be you.”

Keith _growled_ , a true growl, low in his chest and with just enough ragged aggression. Shiro’s stomach leapt, the muscles of his hips tightened--he nearly came right then. Contrasting Keith’s dark voice, he brushed his lips so softly over Shiro’s jawline.

“I'm gonna be the only one,” Keith vowed.

“ _Yes_ ,” Shiro sobbed, and fuck, it was almost humiliating that Keith was tearing him apart like this, like it was _easy_. He couldn’t keep still, and his hips bucked to meet Keith’s thrusts and the strokes of his hand. “Keith, please, do it.”

Keith bowed closer, and his teeth dragged against Shiro’s neck. They were too sharp. It wasn’t even a bite, and Shiro knew his skin was scraped and red. Keith growled, harsh, directed at himself. His mouth shut. His lips pressed to the curve of Shiro’s shoulder, resisting.

“Keith, you _can_ , please please _pleaseplease_.”

Keith gave in. His teeth sank in.

Pain burst through the corners of Shiro's vision, and he cried out and hitched his legs higher around Keith's waist. His whole body was drawn tight. His stomach was a mess, his nails dug into Keith's shoulder, and the pain and heat washed over him to leave his whole body soft and molten.

Keith thrust forward one more time, and Shiro felt all of that heat fill him to bursting.

He thought he _would_ burst. It was too much. He heard Keith cry out, felt him shaking, and Shiro held him close even when the stretch started to hurt.

It was Keith. Their bodies were caught together, and Keith couldn’t pull out of him. Realization, the memory of a couple of brief, awkward conversations that they hadn’t thought would really apply to them, caught up with Shiro. He would have laughed if he’d had the breath to do so. It figured that the first time Shiro asked Keith to come inside of him, he would knot him.

“I’m sorry,” Keith choked. He tried to pull his hips back and failed, and both of them let out sounds of pain when the thick knot at his base tugged where they were joined. “It’s--it’s never done this before. Sometimes galra... I don’t know what--”

Shiro pulled him close again. His legs wrapped tight around him, and his heels pressed into the dip of Keith’s back, right at the dimples of his hips.

“No, stay,” Shiro heard himself implore, senseless and weak. Keith moaned in his ear and ground forward, trying to press himself deeper.

“God, Shiro, your fucking _body_.”

The frantic need was wearing off. All that was left was the deep, heavy satisfaction and the ache paired with it. Shiro sighed with contentment and relaxed into the bed.

“You okay, baby?”

Keith hummed, tired and muffled. He had arranged himself comfortably on top of Shiro, and all they had to do was relax and wait for his body to release them. Shiro laughed and kissed the top of his head. He stroked the back of Keith’s neck, down to the middle of his back and up again, and as he pet Keith’s sweat-dotted skin, he heard Keith give him another soft, pleased hum.

“Feels so good,” Keith whispered. “I’m so happy, Shiro.” He treated Shiro’s neck in kisses, paying special attention to the bite that still had Shiro’s skin stinging. It had hurt, but it had _needed_ to hurt. Shiro couldn’t wait to look at the mark Keith had given him. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“I’m fine,” Shiro assured him, smiling without opening his eyes. “I’m completely fine. You were perfect.”

When Keith was finally able to slip out of Shiro’s body, they parted with quiet moans and Shiro’s legs collapsed together. He felt heavy and useless and spectacular. He still felt full, too. Jesus. How much had Keith come? When Keith started to get out of bed, Shiro looked up at him with a small, protesting, “Hey.”

“I’ll be right back,” Keith promised. “Let me get something to clean you up.”

Thoughtful and sweet. Of course he was. Shiro smiled and reached out to catch him by the hand, and Keith stopped.

“C’mere,” Shiro mumbled. “Don’t worry about that. We can take a shower in a minute. Can I just hold you?”

Keith took no more convincing. He smiled back at him and returned to the bed, and he allowed Shiro to wrap his arms around him and pull him close against his chest. He savored the sweet little sigh Keith gave, and while Keith nestled into his chest and curled his arm around Shiro’s waist, Shiro kissed his forehead.

“I like this. I think I wanna do this a lot,” Keith muttered. Shiro found himself grinning.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith yawned and tucked his face under Shiro’s chin. Shiro resumed the calm, soothing task of running his fingers through Keith's hair. “I can't believe you're mine.”

Keith's flattery was going to be the death of him. Shiro laughed, soft and bashful.

“So,” Shiro had to tease him affectionately. “The knot, the bite… Sounds like I got you pretty excited.” Keith groaned and hid his face deeper against Shiro's neck.

“Shiro,” he complained. “It was-- I mean-- yeah.”

“It's okay, baby,” Shiro chuckled. “I liked it. And you know I'm already yours.”

Keith held his breath for a moment. He let it out in a happy sigh.

“I love when you say that,” he murmured.

“What?” Shiro asked, voice benign. He bowed his head and tilted Keith's chin up so he could kiss him. “That I'm yours?”

“Yeah.” Keith grinned against his mouth and pressed into the contact. He was so eager and receptive. It was incredible, how much he sought out touch and affection once he knew it was allowed. Keith mimicked the small gesture of his hand, catching Shiro’s chin between his thumb and forefinger to hold his face, and Shiro thought he might melt completely.

Keith pulled back to look at him. Shiro had thought that Keith might say something else, so he stayed silent. He was content to wait, gazing back into his dark eyes, but Keith seemed just as happy to simply stay there, looking at this person who wanted to be called _his_. Shiro finally prompted Keith with a soft, “What’s on your mind?”

Keith stroked Shiro’s bottom lip with his thumb while he gathered his answer. His smile touched the corners of his eyes.

“We made it,” Keith replied, quiet in their warm, safe bedroom. “We’re finally here.”

Finally. Shiro liked how Keith said that, like this was the end of the struggle. At least for now, it was. He shifted his weight and rolled them over, and Keith was happy to lie on his back and let Shiro kiss him into the bed.


End file.
